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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101722">What Happens in Vegas Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelyshadowdances/pseuds/thelonelyshadowdances'>thelonelyshadowdances</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>These Violent Delights Series - Chloe Gong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancing in the Rain, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Drinking, I literally dont know what to tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Married Couple, Modern AU, Not Canon Compliant, an attempt at being witty, ben has a tattoo of mars's name on his ass, benedikt is like always drawing, brief mention of outing, domestic husbands, juliette only shows up twice but is sexy both times, like awful, marshall cries at one point, not many chapters, only the last chapter is beta read, roma and juliette make out, short ish chapters, that was literally the title of it while in my google docs, they got married while drunk, they stay married because theyre lazy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:36:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelyshadowdances/pseuds/thelonelyshadowdances</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two best friends got married in Vegas. Out of convenience, they chose to stay married, though they underestimated just how deep their feelings ran...</p><p>Or a modern Benediktmars fic with marriage of convenience troupe, just because I can</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marshall Seo/Benedikt Montagov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>yayy second benediktmars fic on this site!!</p><p>idk how frequent updates will be so dont mind that, though i do plan to finish</p><p>TWs for a brief mention of outing, drinking, and gambling</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Oh, look, they’re making out again.” Marshall nodded at where Juliette was straddling Roma on a poker table, her hands fisted in his shirt. People around them were giving them strange looks and complaining that they wanted to play, but nothing could separate Roma Montagov and Juliette Cai once they had their hands on one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt sighed, taking another shot of whiskey. He absolutely did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to see his cousin grope his on-again-off-again girlfriend in the middle of a casino. If he were being honest, he hadn’t even wanted to go to the casino. He would have much preferred to be curled up in his hotel room in his pyjama pants with a drawing program pulled on his iPad, and a cup of hot chocolate on his nightstand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he was in a crowded room full of loud chatter and people wasting away their life savings. Benedikt sighed, leaning against the bar where he had managed to find an empty stool. Marshall had followed him and was grinning, looking around as everything seemed to catch his attention for a moment, before he glanced at the next interesting thing he saw. He seemed extra unhinged tonight, though it could’ve been a result of the strange fruity pink drink in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall leaned against Benedikt, pressing a sloppy kiss to Ben’s cheek. He had always been very affectionate towards Ben when he was tipsy. He explained in slightly slurred Russian, “I’m going to go play Craps with Kathleen. Bye, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hopped off his barstool, making his way over to Kathleen Lang, Juliette’s cousin and closest friend, and leaving Benedikt alone. He groaned, turning back towards the bar to order more drinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve always been here for me, Ben,” Marshall slurred with a grin. “I love youuuu s’much. So s’much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt let his head fall onto Marshall’s shoulder. “You’re drunk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall reached up, awkwardly patting Benedikt’s face. His hand was calloused, but otherwise soft. “Mm, would love you forever, Ben. Benny, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to love </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> forever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded, inhaling the scent of Marshall’s neck. He smelt like cloves and cologne. The scent made him dizzy, though he kept smelling him because it was familiar; Marshall’s smell reminded Benedikt of home. “Imma love you forever anyways, Mars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should get married,” Marshall said abruptly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt frowned. “Married? Why?”</span>
</p><p><span>“Because that’s what people do when they promise to love each other forever, silly.” Marshall giggled. </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Benedikt quietly thought it over. He did love Marshall. And they already lived together. </span><em><span>And</span></em><span> Roma was constantly making teasing comments about how they bickered like an old married couple.  Benedikt couldn’t think of a reason he shouldn’t marry Marshall and have the hottest husband ever…</span></p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he said finally, lifting his head from Marshall’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “Let’s get married.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marshall felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He groaned and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, burying his face into the pillow. “Fuck…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” The familiar, albeit much too loud, voice came from next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall turned his head, wincing at the bright light of sun as he looked at Benedikt. Why the fuck were the curtains open? Why did the sun reflect much too brightly in Ben’s golden hair? And why were they sharing a room? Marshall was pretty sure they had booked separate rooms. But those were all questions for a time when Marshall wasn’t suffering from the worst hangover of his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, he needed to nap for a long, long time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marshall woke up again, this time to loud shouting.  Someone was laughing hysterically. It made his brain hurt worse, if that was possible. He groaned, rolling onto his back and squinting up at the ceiling -- he was still too disoriented to figure out how to open his eyes all the way. But at least someone had closed the blinds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall called out, “what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kathleen’s voice was the one to respond. She sounded like she was stifling a laugh. “Your name is tattooed on Benedikt’s left ass cheek. In Korean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall frowned, mulling this over. “Huh. That’s new.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all you have to say?” Ben’s voice was incredulous and much louder than Marshall’s brain was comfortable with. “How did your name get on my ass, Seo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall groaned, sitting up and immediately putting his head in his hands as nausea crashed over him in waves. “I don’t know, I didn’t fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>tattoo</span>
  </em>
  <span> your </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass</span>
  </em>
  <span> while you were sleeping, if that’s what you were thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously that isn’t what I was thinking,” Benedikt snapped. “You can barely remember your own name while you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> drunk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kathleen was laughing again. Marshall looked up from his hands and over at Benedikt and Kathleen. He was pretty sure he was in Ben’s room. Benedikt was in the bathroom, only in boxer briefs. Kathleen was standing in the bathroom entryway, her hair and makeup as perfectly done as ever. She was covering her mouth with the back of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall pointed at her. “Spill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kathleen tossed her hair over one shoulder, sparing him a glance. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall narrowed his eyes. “You know why I now own Benedikt’s ass, I can tell,” he ignored Ben’s groan at his word choice. “So spill. I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kathleen glanced between the boys and sighed. “Okay, fine.” She hesitated for a moment, before blurting out, “the two of you got married last night. I was your witness. And then I went to bed, so I’m not sure why Ben decided to tattoo your name on his ass, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall held up his hand, feeling like his mind had been blown. He felt even more sick, if that was possible. “Benedikt and I are…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s eyes were wide in shock. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Married?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He finished, his voice ringing with disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kathleen nodded. “Juliette and Roma don’t know yet.” She crossed her arms over her chest, looking amused as she leaned against the door frame of the bathroom. “Roma is going to have a heart attack when he finds out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt and Marshall were staring at each other in shock. Benedikt broke eye contact and turned to Kathleen. “Can we have a minute?”</span>
</p><p><span>She nodded and quickly slipped out of the room, leaving the </span><em><span>fucking</span></em> <em><span>husbands</span></em><span> alone. Ben turned back to Marshall and said softly, “so should we get a divorce? We should get a divorce, right?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Marshall ran his hands through his hair, reality settling in. He felt much more serious than he should be. God, this conversation was way too deep to have when Marshall’s hangover was this bad. “Divorces cost so much, Ben. I don’t have that kind of money…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded, sighing. He walked over to the bed, sinking down next to Marshall with a wince. “Right, I didn’t even think about money.” He was silent for a long time and Marshall recognized his pensive face. Benedikt finally said, “we could stay married?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall looked over at him so quickly it almost gave him whiplash. “Are you joking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt frowned. “Why would I be joking? It makes sense, Mars. We already live together and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about you. It’s not like either of us date around much anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall’s mind was whirling. “You...want to be my husband?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Benedikt shrugged, studying Marshall like he tended to do. “Do you have a problem with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall’s heart was jumping in his chest. Being married to the boy he’d been in love with for over a year seemed much too good to be true and there was absolutely no way he was passing it up. He shook his head with a smug grin, lightly bumping his shoulder against Benedikt’s. “No, hubby, I don’t have a problem with it. Though it’s a shame we didn’t get wedding pictures, I look fan-fucking-tastic in a tux.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head with a soft grin. “You weren’t in a tux for our wedding, Mars. You were in…” Benedikt gave Marshall, who was still in his soft gray knit sweater and black chinos from the night before, a pointed once over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall shrugged. “I’m still hot. And your ass agrees with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt groaned. “I hate you so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That isn’t very nice to say to your husband, Benny.” Marshall grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben just sighed, exasperated, though his brown eyes were sparkling softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, wait, you two are </span>
  <em>
    <span>married?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Roma was gaping at Marshall and Benedikt -- who were both sitting there sheepishly -- looking surprisingly angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliette looked between them with a raised eyebrow. Her curled hair and makeup were perfect as always. “And you didn’t invite the rest of us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, you two had gone back to the hotel.” Kathleen took a sip of orange juice. “No one wanted to disturb you, knowing what you must’ve been doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them were eating and nursing their hangovers at their hotel’s breakfast buffet. It had all been very calm and contented until Marshall had called Benedikt “husband” like the adorable moron he was. Roma had lost his shit until Ben had calmly exasperatedly explained what Kathleen had told them. Roma had then proceeded to lose his shit some more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliette drummed her long, black painted fingernails on the table. “I assume this means you’re getting a divorce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually we aren’t,” Marshall said cheerfully, before tipping his head back to eat from the cluster of grapes he was dangling over his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roma stared at him for a long moment. When he finally spoke, each word was drawn out carefully, resembling the calm before a storm. “What do you mean you aren’t getting a divorce?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall shrugged, sitting up straight. He set the remaining grapes on his plate. “Oh, you know. Divorce is expensive, we live together anyways, and it makes paying taxes easier. Plus,” he added, “how could you expect us to pass up being the hottest husbands ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt whacked his shoulder. “You’re not very helpful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never claimed to be,” Marshall responded with a playfully infuriating grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mars, just shut up for a second </span>
  <em>
    <span>please,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Roma begged. He scrubbed his hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re staying married because it’s cheaper? Do you have any idea how difficult married life is? And the two of you aren’t even dating, are you sure you’re ready to jump into this kind of commitment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt had to admit his cousin was raising some good points. “We hadn’t really thought it over much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly.” Roma sighed. “Like, what happens if one of you wants to see someone else? How would you explain this to them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt frowned. “I didn’t date much anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall shrugged. “Yeah me neither, especially not after, well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all knew what he had left unsaid. Two years ago, Marshall’s ex had been pressuring him to come out as gay. Mars had gotten sick of it and dumped him. In retaliation, the guy had spread screenshots of their texts and pictures of them together all over the internet. One of his friends had even gone as far as to print out these pictures and plaster them all over school, outing him to everyone who knew him. Soon after, Marshall had punched his ex in the face, it escalated into a massive fist fight, Mars had gotten expelled for violence, and hadn’t trusted anyone enough to date since. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Roma who broke the awkward silence that followed. “Look, I’m not saying you guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> a divorce, I’m just saying you really need to talk about what being married means.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both quiet for a long moment. Juliette was the one to break it, as the pad of her forefinger circled the brim of her coffee cup. “And if you’re staying married I guess you need to get rings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benedikt has my name tattooed on his ass, I don’t think he needs a ring.” Marshall grinned, his eyes sparkling. It was clear the awkwardness that had overcome him had passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliette stared at them, her mouth falling open. Roma put his head in his hands with a resigned groan. Kathleen just started laughing once more. Benedikt wanted to smack Marshall. Beautiful Marshall who was his best friend. Marshall who was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roma was right. This was complicated, way more complicated than most marriages. Way more complicated than anything Ben had dreamed would have come from this trip to Las Vegas, USA. But for now, he was an idiot who married his best friend while they were both drunk and an idiot who would stay married to that idiot for as long as it remained this simple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strangely, Benedikt didn’t mind the idea of staying married to Marshall. He did, however, mind the godforsaken tattoo on his ass, but that was just a simple semantic.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>the boys go back to shanghai. a confession is made</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is kinda short and i'm genuinely not sure whether or not this will only be three chapters, i might add a few more, but either way it'll definitely stay short and fluffy in the same short scene type of style</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When they returned to Shanghai, their apartment was the same as ever. Benedikt had books and sketch paper in small piles scattered around the living room and Marshall had left his laptop resting on the table. </p><p>Marshall dropped his suitcase, running for the couch. He jumped onto it, groaning and burying his face in the cushions. “Oh my god, I missed it here.”</p><p>“We were only in the US for two weeks, Mars.” Benedikt yawned, completely jet-lagged. He leaned his own suitcase against the wall, running his hand through his hair as he blinked slowly at his new husband. </p><p>Marshall shrugged, letting his arm fall off the edge of the couch. His knuckles brushed the edge of the carpet gently. “Still. Those four star hotel rooms weren’t near as nice as our little run down place.” His voice was teasing, but it rang with the truth.</p><p>Benedikt sighed, going over to Marshall. He lifted Mars’s legs, sitting on the couch and laying Marshall’s legs over his own. Marshall rolled onto his back, adjusting his head on the armrest of the couch. “Look at us, being a domestic married couple.”</p><p>Benedikt groaned. “Did you have to remind me that we’re married?”</p><p>Marshall shot him a handsome smile, running a hand through his black hair. “Yes, but don't worry, Benny. I’ll treat you right, I promise.”</p><p>Benedikt fixed him a small glare. “That’s not what I meant, Mars. I just never expected to be stupid enough to get married in Vegas. Do you know how cliche that is?”</p><p>Marshall nodded. “Well, I, however, never claimed to be smart. Actually Juliette and I had a bet that I would get married to<em> someone </em>in Vegas. Though, to be honest, I never expected it would be you. You’re supposed to be the sensible one.”</p><p>“So much for that.” Benedikt let out a surprised laugh. “How much money did you lose?”</p><p>“Bold of you to assume I was the one betting that I <em> wouldn’t </em>get married.” Marshall’s grin grew, his eyes glinting with amusement. </p><p>“I should’ve guessed.” Benedikt rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Hey, Mars?”</p><p>“Hm?” Marshall bent his arm and folded it under his head. He looked soft like this and if Benedikt had to spend the rest of his life with one man because of a drunken mistake he made in his early twenties, he had no complaints at who the man was. </p><p>Benedikt tore himself out of his thoughts. “Marriage is about compromise, right?”</p><p>“As far as I know, yeah,” Marshall answered with a nod, his eyebrows arching.</p><p>Benedikt smiled softly at him, not knowing how Mars would react to what he had to say. “Then you should take my last name.” He quickly continued before Marshall could jump in, “I have your name tattooed on my ass! It’s only fair you have your name combined with mine.”</p><p>Marshall opened and closed his mouth quickly. “Okay, fine. But you can never get the tattoo removed. I’m going to own that ass forever.”</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Last time we hung out you said you had a crush on him.” Juliette raised her eyebrows, taking a long sip of white wine. </p><p>Marshall winced. “Those are just semantics.”</p><p>Juliette sighed, pulling out a compact mirror and admiring herself as she played with her dark curls. “You’re married to a guy you have a crush on <em>and </em> you’re literally taking his last name, Mars. Those are some pretty fucking complicated semantics.”</p><p>“Life is complicated, my dear Miss Cai.” Marshall leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. </p><p>“And what?” She quipped, “you’re doing your best to complicate it even further?”</p><p>Marshall shrugged. “You’re just jealous you aren’t married to the guy you love.”</p><p>Juliette snorted, setting the mirror onto the table and snapping it shut. “At least when I do get married, I’ll be able to remember the ceremony. And at least my husband is certain to be into my gender.”</p><p>Marshall froze. “You don’t think Ben is into guys?”</p><p>“You’re his roommate, you know him better than I do.” Juliette shrugged. “So, you tell me. Is Benedikt Montagov into men?”</p><p>Marshall thought back to all the times Benedikt had mentioned having any sort of a crush, and frowned when he came up blank. “I-I don’t know. Fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck, <em> fuck! </em>”</p><p>“You have a lot to figure out, Seo. That’s all I’m saying.” Juliette took another sip of wine. </p><p>Marshall covered his face with his hands, groaning into them. He hated to admit being wrong, he really did, but this time he had no other choice. God, he was an idiot.</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Are you gay?”</p><p>Benedikt startled, almost dropping his bowl of cheerios. It was seven in the morning and Ben was sleepy, still dressed in only a t-shirt and fleece pyjama bottoms. He had woken up to work on his commissions, not to be greeted by Marshall inquiring about his sexuality. </p><p>Benedikt blinked twice at him, dazed. “Aagmph?”</p><p>Marshall was only wearing sweatpants. His torso was patterned with scars that distinctly resembled knife marks. He repeated evenly, “are you gay?”</p><p>Benedikt stared at Marshall as he took a bite of his cereal, nodding slowly. “Yes. I am.”</p><p>Marshall’s grin grew. “Good. I’d hate to have a straight man as my husband.”</p><p>Benedikt went to sit at the dining room table, pulling out his iPad. “I’m glad to see you have your priorities in check.”</p><p>Marshall moved from where he was leaning against the countertop and sat across from him. He folded his hands together and rested his chin on his fingers. “So, you’re gay, huh?”</p><p>“I thought we literally just established this.” Benedikt didn’t look up at him. He dragged his stylus across the screen, starting to sketch.</p><p>“I never knew.”</p><p>“I never told you,” Benedikt said, looking up at him. “How could you have known?”</p><p>Marshall shrugged. “Have you ever kissed a guy.”</p><p>Benedikt hadn’t, in fact, ever kissed a guy. It was something that embarrassed him; he was twenty-three years old and hadn’t ever been kissed. He looked down at his cheerios, taking another bite and pointedly ignored the question, until a crumpled up napkin kit him in the face. </p><p>“Benny,” Marshall drew his name out in a lengthy whine. “Have you ever kissed a guy?” He repeated with a pout.</p><p>“No, okay?” Benedikt felt himself grow defensive. “No, I haven’t kissed a guy. Now stop asking me all these invasive questions.”</p><p>Marshall sat up straight, frowning. “Benedikt? Are you really upset with me?”</p><p>He shook his head, pushing his iPad aside. Benedikt crossed his arms and rested them on top of the table, staring at Marshall. “No, I’m not. I just…” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “It’s awkward to talk about these things with you.”</p><p>Marshall’s frown tugged the corners of his lips down further. “Why? Did you think I wouldn’t be supportive?”</p><p>Benedikt shook his head, hating the sudden tenseness of the atmosphere. “I knew you would be, you’re my best friend. But you’re...you.”</p><p>“What do you mean, Ben?” Marshall inquisitively tilted his head to the side.</p><p>Benedikt just shrugged, feeling his lips tug up in a small, embarrassed smile. “I always had too much of a crush on you to tell you,” he admitted. “If i told you I was gay, I knew you’d ask me too many follow-up questions, like if I had ever kissed a boy, or liked a boy. And I know I’m not the most subtle guy in the world, I would have given it away sooner or later.”</p><p>Marshall’s mouth fell open. He let out a surprised laugh, covering his hand with his mouth. “You had a crush on me?”</p><p>Benedikt had never wanted to die more than he did in that moment. “I might...uh, still have a crush on you.”</p><p>Marshall’s eyes were bright. “Oh my god, Ben, you have a <em> crush </em> on me?”</p><p>“This is so embarrassing, please just drop it.” Benedikt groaned, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. </p><p>“<em> My husband has a crush on me, </em>” Marshall said in a singsong voice with a large grin. </p><p>Benedikt ran his hands through his hair. “It’s way too early in the morning for this.”</p><p>Marshall just laughed. “Hey, Ben?”</p><p>Benedikt looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Yes, Mars?”</p><p>“I have a crush on you too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>please leave comments, kudos and the like. constructive criticism is always appreciated too &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>LAST CHAPTER OMG</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi!! so this is the last chapter and i'm so so sorry it took me so long to finish, but it's longer than the other two chapters so i hope that makes up for it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nothing had changed since Benedikt and Marshall had confessed their mutual feelings for each other. Benedikt wasn’t sure why he had expected things to be different, or why the familiarity of them just being friends was so disappointing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the lack of changes in their lives, Benedikt was desperately wishing something would happen. Maybe that Marshall would want something more? And that Benedikt’s husband would become his </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps, at the very least, Benedikt just wanted to be certain nothing would alter his dynamic with Mars. He liked how things were, how they’d always been. Being Marshall’s best friend was easy, sometimes even easier than breathing. He was fine with only being Marshall’s friend, he really was, even if the dull aching of his heart was leading him to believe otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Benedikt</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Roma snapped, getting impatient. “If you wouldn’t mind getting your head back from wherever it is in the clouds, it’d be greatly appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall reached out his leg from his spot on the couch, poking Benedikt in the arm with the toe of his sock covered foot. “Yeah, Ben, come back to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them were in Marshall and Benedikt’s apartment, hanging out like they did every Friday night. Two pizza boxes were stacked neatly on the coffee table and the smell of food grease still lingered in the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall and Roma were sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, bickering over something, but Benedikt honestly couldn’t be bothered with listening to their quarrel. He had been laying on his stomach atop the carpeted floor, occupied with absently sketching out the circular shape of a sphere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bendikt pushed Marshall’s foot away, rolling onto his back. “What? What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came here to spend time with my cousin, not to have him ignore me while he draws the same thing, over and </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Roma rolled his eyes. “So, what’s going on with you, Ben?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt sighed. “Is there ever anything going on with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got married to your roommate in Vegas,” Roma stated dryly. “So yeah, sometimes you have shit going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall let out a sharp laugh, his eyes bright. He was so beautiful that Benedikt quickly had to look away, his heart stuttering in his chest. He mumbled, “okay, but I don’t have anything going on right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you okay?” Roma frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded. “Yep, totally fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall was staring at him, the corners of his lips tugging down in concern. “Ben, what’s the matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just out of it today. It’s fine, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roma and Marshall exchanged a look, but neither of them pushed it any further. They returned to their previous argument and Benedikt sighed, folding his arm under his head. He stared up at the popcorn ceiling, returning to his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marshall was cooking dinner. Every so often, he looked up to steal a glance at Benedikt, who was sketching with a concentrated frown. He was using his sketchpad and pencils Marshall had bought him for his birthday last year, his head bowed over his project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall loved admiring how Ben’s features were taken over by a look of pure focus. He loved seeing Benedikt’s eyes light up from doing something he was passionate about. He was so beautiful like this and Marshall loved everything about how he looked when he sketched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just loved Benedikt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> Benedikt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love</span>
  </em>
  <span> with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Benedikt. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was in love with Benedikt Montagov. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The series of thoughts hit Marshall like several quick slaps in the face and he tore his eyes away from his friend to shakily set down the knife he’d been holding. He stared at a dark mark on the counter, trying to push aside the realization. The knowledge that these feelings were not new and that -- even though he hadn’t bothered to put a name to them -- he had felt them for years somehow made it worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind was loud and his heart was being louder still. Marshall knew he had to be the loudest or neither of them would ever shut up. He looked up at Benedikt. “Bennnnnnn,” he loudly whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Benedikt looked up, his concentration broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall felt a twinge of guilt, but he pushed it aside, shooting Ben a charming smile. “Can you taste my sauce?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt sighed. “Can’t you taste it yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall shrugged and said, “I already did, but I’m not going to be the only one eating it so I thought it might be nice to get your opinion as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt lazily ran his hand through his dark golden hair, pushing himself off the couch. “Alright, fine.” He walked over, hopping onto the counter and swinging his legs once. The bright kitchen lights hit his blonde head like an angelic halo and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful. Marshall couldn’t figure out how to look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt quirked up one eyebrow. “You have the spoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall looked down at it, nodding. “Right…” He stepped towards the stove, scooping up the tiniest portion of sauce he could manage. He carefully balanced the spoon as he walked to where Benedikt was perched. Marshall rested his hand on the counter, leaning over to bring the spoon to Benedikt’s mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s bronze eyelashes fluttered shut as he closed his eyes, sighing. “Oh god- it’s amazing, Mars. Literally amazing.” He opened his eyes as Marshall pulled the spoon away, licking his lips. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is why I make you cook for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall was still staring at him. He gave Ben a soft grin. “I’m your house-husband?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt laughed. “Exactly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall stepped back, still grinning, and went to finish stirring the sauce. “Well, if I had to be anyone’s house-husband, I’m glad I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> house-husband.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt swung his legs, his heels hitting the cupboards below him with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Mars, can I be honest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, my dear Benny.” Marshall glanced over at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I keep forgetting we’re married,” Benedikt admitted softly. “We keep acting like how we did before. And I get that we didn’t choose this -- not while we were sober anyways -- but I guess I thought it would be different?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Different how?” Marshall asked as he reached for the pot of noodles, starting to strain them in the sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. More awkward maybe? At least at first…” Benedikt looked down at where his socked feet were now outstretched and pointed. “And then we admitted to liking each other, like, romantically, and I thought maybe things would actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>become </span>
  </em>
  <span>more romantic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a lot. Especially after Marshall’s new found realization. He set the noodles on the island table, before turning off the stove. He looked up, meeting Benedikt’s sheepish gaze. “Would you want that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded slowly. “Yeah...I think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall was going to respond, but he paused for a moment. “Ben, can you hand me some plates?” Benedikt nodded, reaching behind him to hand them to Marshall. Mars set them next to the stove, starting to pile spaghetti onto each. As he prepared their meals, he said, “Well, I think that you are beautiful, smart, kind, and everything in the world to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Benedikt sounded startled, but pleased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And,” Marshall continued, “just a few moments ago, while I was glancing up to watch you sketch, it hit me. What it all meant. How I feel about you.” He started to scoop sauce onto the plate, his heart thudding in his chest. “I’m in love with my husband.” He tentatively looked up, meeting Benedikt’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben was staring at him, his brown eyes wide. He said softly, “and I’m in love with mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall felt a grin spread over his face. “Darling Ben…” A laugh slipped out of him, loud and genuine. “My Benedikt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt was staring at him from where he was perched atop the counter. “So things between us are going to change?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall nodded. “Yeah, I think they will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt smiled, a rare, real smile, one that had no shadows or clouds casting over it. Marshall’s world brightened along with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up the plates and went to set them on the table, before making his way to Benedikt. He stood beside where he was sitting on the counter, looking up. “Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt’s teeth worried at his bottom lip. “Hello.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall pushed himself up and twisted, so he was sitting beside Benedikt. They stared at each for a long awkward moment, until Marshall got restless. He felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. “Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt’s eyes flashed with a nervous look, but he nodded. “If you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall started to lean in, but he paused. “You can pull away whenever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s going to be your first kiss, I don’t expect it to be perfect,” Marshall said, before wincing at how it sounded. “Not that I don’t think it will be good. It’ll probably be-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Benedikt cut him off, reaching out to touch his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall kept going, feeling unusually nervous, “and kissing doesn’t mean we have to go any further, unless you’d want-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marshall,” Benedikt snapped, looking impatient. “Okay.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips to Marshall’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall inhaled sharply, kissing Benedikt back as carefully as he knew how to. Benedikt’s mouth was almost clumsy against his own, but he kissed with an almost stubborn determination that was so purely </span>
  <em>
    <span>Benedikt </span>
  </em>
  <span>it made Marshall’s insides flutter with a million elated butterflies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall lifted his hand to rest it on Benedikt’s cheek and he thoughtfully stroked his cheekbone once, before pulling away. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that Marshall was sure it was trying to escape. “Ben...Benedikt, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Benedikt said again, his eyes wide. He was smiling a little, his expression full of dazed curiosity.  Marshall loved him so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, food?” Marshall managed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall laughed, jumping off the counter. “Is that all you’re capable of saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt rolled his eyes, following Marshall’s lead by pushing himself down. He swatted at Marshall’s arm lightly. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall grinned, stopping in his tracks and turning to face Benedikt. He leaned over and kissed him softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt smiled when he pulled away. “What was that for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Marshall asked, raising his eyebrow as his grin turned to a teasing one. “I can’t just kiss my husband?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt stepped towards him, touching his shoulder. He kissed Marshall's cheek, his lips soft against Marshall’s skin. He said in </span>
  <em>
    <span>horribly</span>
  </em>
  <span> accented Korean, “do whatever you want, Mars. You always do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something about Benedikt Montagov standing there -- his blonde hair an unbrushed mess and his eyes soft as he spoke Marshall’s native language -- that made Marshall feel a strong wave of tenderness throughout his entire body. It made glad he couldn’t see the undoubtedly lovesick look on his own face. He probably would’ve hit himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and cleared his throat. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Benedikt and Marshall had kissed once, they hadn’t stopped. They exchanged soft, sweet kisses every few minutes and with each new kiss, Benedikt had fallen even more impossibly in love with Marshall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only downside of this was that it left him wondering where exactly he stood with Marshall. Did the fact that they were technically married mean that they had to skip the dating stage and go right into married life? Or could they still date like a regular couple in the beginning stage of their relationship?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But were they even a couple? Or were they just best friends who kissed a lot and just so happened to be married?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt had no idea and, frankly, he was much too scared to ask. Asking could lead to rejection </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>it could lead to them jumping headfirst into a serious relationship that Benedikt wasn’t sure he was ready for. So, for now, he was determined not to focus on the questions that did not cease in their constant circling in his head. Instead he would kiss Marshall, draw Marshall, and love Marshall more than he had ever previously thought he was capable of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, two weeks after their first kiss, Marshall brought it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had been sitting on the couch while Marshall was reading and Benedikt was drawing him. The only noise had been the loud droplets of rain hitting the windows. It had been raining for days and Benedikt was sick of it. Marshall, on the other hand, was elated; he loved rain, even though Benedikt couldn’t imagine why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall had broken the comfortable silence, turning his head towards Benedikt, “Ben?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Benedikt reached out, gently pushing his face back towards where it had been before, tilting his chin back down to his book so he could properly draw Marshall’s side profile without completely butchering it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall visibly bit back a grin, his dimple just barely carving itself into his cheek. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Benedikt wished he had enough talent to properly capture him. Marshall asked, “what are we, Benny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt felt his happiness falter into nerves. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall’s eyes flickered towards Benedikt and he started to turn his head, but Benedikt stopped him with a hand on his cheek. Marshall fondly rolled his eyes. “I love you. You love me, I mean I’m assuming, because who wouldn’t love me?” For once, Marshall’s egotistical humour fell flat. He took a deep breath, looking down at where his book rested in his hands, his thumb laying between pages to mark his spot. He continued, his voice quieter, “but I’m not sure I’m ready for...for fucking marriage.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nervously let out a short laugh and Benedikt noticed the shaking pages of his book in his trembling hands. Marshall kept going, “I mean, my last relationship was a shitshow. But you’re...you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>Benedikt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you were my first real friend. And I want to give this a chance because I love you so much, but I-” he cut off, closing his eyes. His head didn’t move and, this time, Benedikt wished it would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt reached out, taking his hand and entwining their fingers. He squeezed Marshall’s hand. “Mars, dorogoy, look at me.” He was vaguely aware of the Russian endearment slipping out through his worried tone. Marshall turned his head to face Benedikt and slowly opened his eyes. They were filled with tears. Benedikt’s concern only increased and he reached out with his free hand to touch Marshall’s shoulder, desperately wishing he was better at feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said softly. “Mars, I’m not ready for marriage either. I’ve never even had a boyfriend and the thought of being </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>committed right off the bat...it’s fucking terrifying. This mess we’ve got going for ourselves is really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> complicated. But…” Benedikt struggled to find the words that would properly express what he felt. The words that wouldn’t scare Marshall away. “But it’s not like either of us are going through this alone, right? So, if you want to figure this out -- because I know I do -- we can figure it out together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall was quiet for a few moments. It unnerved Benedikt; Marshall was rarely this quiet and he was worried he had messed this up somehow. Benedikt’s nerves were eased a little when Marshall said, “yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. We’ll figure it out together...yeah.” He nodded, hastily wiping under his eyes. His cheeks were flushed. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I started actually crying, what the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt squeezed both his shoulder and his hand at the same time. “The last guy you had feelings for was possibly the biggest asshole on the planet. I don’t blame you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall dropped his hand away from his face. “Excuse you, I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> date Tyler Cai.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt snorted. “Okay, the second biggest asshole on the planet then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall nodded, his usual mischievous twinkle returning to his dark brown eyes. “So...we’re trying? To figure out whatever the fuck we have going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re trying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall smiled, leaning in to kiss Benedikt softly on the lips. “God, I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had been giving their relationship a try for two months. During that time, Benedikt had gone from being simply in love with Marshall to absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>enamoured </span>
  </em>
  <span>with him. They had spent hours in each other's arms, usually either dancing -- Mars loved to dance -- or kissing until their lips were numb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pretty much better than anything else Benedikt had ever experienced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was enough for him to forget the atrocity that was Marshall named inked across his ass in a language he barely knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This feeling was increased tenfold when Marshall let out a long sigh and rested his head on Benedikt’s shoulder, his soft dark hair brushing Benedikt’s neck. Marshall was humming softly under his breath to a tune that Benedikt didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting by the </span>
  <span>Huangpu River as Benedikt drew on his iPad using a drawing program he was trying to get used to. He preferred using more traditional pencils and paint on paper, but digital art was easier for commissions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall was playing a game on his phone, mumbling under his breath whenever he lost. Benedikt was concentrating too hard on his art to translate Marshall’s mumblings from Korean to Russian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall abruptly switched to Russian, his voice muffled because his mouth was half buried in Benedikt’s shoulder, “are you wearing my sweater?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt nodded, letting his head fall to the side so it was lightly resting on Marshall’s. “Yes. I have to do my laundry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm,” Marshall hummed. “When you do yours, can you do mine too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there in silence for another short while, until there was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the sky. Benedikt looked up as heavy droplets quickly spilled from the sky. He cursed loudly, reaching for his backpack and shoving his iPad into it, before he zipped it up as quickly as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall looked up, squinting at the clouds as a smile spread over his handsome face. He laughed, pushing himself to his feet and stowing his phone away in his back pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of them were already getting soaked and Benedikt felt annoyance start to creep in as he stood, swinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Let’s go home, Mars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall was still grinning up at the sky. He looked over at Benedikt, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. “It’s raining.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Benedikt responded dryly. “That’s why I want to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall reached out his hand, his grin growing wider. “Why go home when we can stay here and dance in the rain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt stared at him. “I hate the rain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but you love me,” Marshall said, as confident as ever. He had always oozed confidence. It was the first thing that had drawn Benedikt to him, making him wish he could capture it in a painting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, the entire situation reminded Benedikt of a painting -- or of one of those very shitty romantic comedies. Marshall was beautiful like this, a smile on his face as rain water dripped off of his face, his hand outstretched to the man he loved. The buildings of their city created a backdrop that almost matched Mars’s beauty. Almost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt didn’t reply. He just sighed and took Marshall’s hand, letting his husband pull him close, wrapping the arm that wasn’t joined with Benedikt’s around his neck. Benedikt slowly lifted his own arm, pressing it into Marshall’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his head to mutter into Marshall’s ear, “there’s no music.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall laughed. “Do we need any?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could sing,” Marshall offered with an impish quirk of his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t,” Benedikt responded quickly. Everyone who knew Marshall knew how notoriously tone deaf he was. Benedikt had to put up with his renditions of Beyonce songs in the shower, he did not need yet another reminder to buy earplugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall laughed, leaning in to bump their noses together. Benedikt felt his own scrunch up. Their feet started to step in unison, moving in a simple circle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt moved his face away, shaking his head a little. Marshall gasped as the water that had been residing in Ben’s hair hit him in the face. “Oh my god, are you a dog? Stop that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you liked rain.” Benedikt grinned, happy to be the one who teased Marshall for once, instead of the other way around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, but I don’t like my husband acting like a golden retriever!” Marshall’s grin grew bigger when he saw Benedikt’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt laughed, pulling his hand from Marshall’s to push his wet hair off his face. He repeated this with Marshall’s hair and Marshall’s eyes followed his hand as they grew soft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall cleared his throat, lifting his now-free right hand to join his left hand behind Benedikt’s neck. His fingers stroked the soft baby hair at the back of Benedikt’s neck, making him want to shiver. “Hey, Benny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benedikt dropped his arm, wrapping it around Marshall’s waist. This was a more awkward position, but he was freezing from how drenched he was and Marshall was warm. “Yeah, Mars?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall leaned in, softly speaking in Korean. Benedikt was caught off guard, he wasn’t prepared to mentally translate anything tonight and Marshall had spoken much too fast for him to fully catch any of  it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Benedikt asked, feeling out of breath. There was something in Marshall’s expression, something tender and oh so sweet that it made Benedikt’s heart flutter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall wasn’t smiling anymore, but the soft look in his eyes was somehow even better. “I said that you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wings that seemed to have sprouted from Benedikt’s heart lifted it, making him feel as though he was flying. “Marshall, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Marshall’s lips met his and he forgot what he was going to say. He forgot about the rain, and the laundry he had to do, his commissions, and the goddamn tattoo on his ass. It was like his brain had been wiped of everything but Marshall. He kissed him back and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely weightless. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall pulled back, giving Benedikt a smile that resembled sunshine. Benedikt hugged him closer, kissing his cheek softly. “Mars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marshall,” Benedikt said with a soft grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benedikt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marshall Seo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benedikt Ivanovich Montagov.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were just names, their names, names they had heard and said a million times, but somehow they seemed like more. Right now, with how entirely in love Benedikt was feeling, everything seemed like more…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A month later, Marshall found Benedikt asleep in the living room. He was laying on his back on the couch, his hand dangling inches away from his fallen sketchpad. It was the pad he used for his most important projects, one that he usually only used for his spheres. He must have fallen asleep while drawing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall knew Benedikt had been working on a surprise painting for his birthday. Marshall hesitated, not wanting to upset Benedikt, but desperately wanting to see what it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, curiosity got the better of Marshall and he reached down, carefully lifting the sketchpad. It was open to a half finished, mostly scribbled out sketch of a sphere. Little words were written in Benedikt’s neat scrawl around it, all of them about the way he had planned to paint it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marshall smiled, flipping through the rest of the sketchbook, until something caught his eye, something he somehow knew must be his present. His breath caught as he studied the sketch, his heart aching with love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a rough sketch of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that night</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Of Marshall grinning with the vague outlines of buildings behind him. His hand was reaching out and another hand, Benedikt’s hand, was reaching back. The scribbles that represented their fingers were touching. Benedikt had not drawn the rest of himself, only his hand, so it resembled what must’ve been Ben’s point of view during that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the adjoining page, Benedikt had written down the colours of paint he would need and little reminders like: “don’t fuck up his nose this time” or “try to capture his confidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marshall felt a small smile spread over his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he had been hurt in relationships before, but this was different. Benedikt was different. Benedikt was beautiful, creative, kind, smart, and caring. Marshall knew Benedikt, he trusted Benedikt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe, just maybe, things might actually work out in his favour for the first time in his life.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i really hope you enjoyed this fic, please please tell me what you think </p><p> i have a few other benediktmars fics on here if you'd want to read them maybe &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please leave feedback its always appreciated &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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